


Peter and the Wolf

by storyplease



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyplease/pseuds/storyplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Author’s Note: This is a gift story for a friend.  She didn’t really have a concrete idea about what she’d like me to do for a one-shot, so I decided to take one of her favorite characters, Peter Pettigrew, and write a story about his struggles in the First Wizarding War.  I hope you enjoy it! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peter and the Wolf

 

“H-hey Padfoot, whatcha up to?” Peter Pettigrew said nervously, sitting gingerly across from Sirius Black. 

 

“Ehhh,” grunted the lounging Seventh Year, stretching out on the common room couch in his disheveled robes, “You know. Moonie had a rough night again.”

 

“So you’re not going to class, then?” Peter knew he’d asked the wrong question the second the words had escaped his lips.

 

“What of it?” Sirius ran his fingers through his messy dark hair and glared at Peter.

 

“N...nothing,” Peter muttered, staring at the floor.  

 

He hated that Sirius was a better Gryffindor than he was.  Even though the entire Black family was Slytherin and Sirius had come from such a broken home that he’d been living with James for the past few years, Sirius was effortlessly Gryffindor in a way that Peter desperately wished that he himself could be.

 

As though to taunt him, even their Animagus forms were evidence of this gulf of talent.  Sirius was a massive black dog that looked like something from Hell itself. Peter, on the other hand, was a rat.  A disgusting, sewer-living, brown-as-shit rat.  So what if being a rat was useful for spying? It wasn’t as though Peter’s shy personality (or shy bladder for that matter) was useful for extortion.  More and more, he felt as though he was less of a friend to James and Sirius and more of a minion.  Even Lupin had a higher place in the group hierarchy and not just because he let them copy his homework.  

 

Peter hated his stout, short body, which he knew he got from his father.  He hated how his teeth were slightly snaggly, a trait from his mother’s side of the family.  He hated that no matter what he did to try and improve his appearance, magical or mundane, it always backfired horribly. The most recent example of this was when he’d started growing sideburns to make himself look more grown-up, and it only ended up making him look like a Muggle banker.  Peter was rather acquainted with what one should look like, after all.  His father  _ was _ one.  Peter had recurring nightmares about waking up in Gryffindor tower with a bowler hat permanently attached to his head and a pair of the ugliest mutton-chops he’d ever seen attached to his face.  Lily had helped Peter with a few charms after he’d swallowed his pride and begged her to help him, but other than making his hair even more wavy and frizzy than before, it really hadn’t done much for him.

 

Besides, Lily Evans was far too busy sucking face with James Potter to think of much else.  

 

Peter didn’t feel attracted to Lily or anything, but he resented how James had laid his claim on her and gotten her by their last year of school even though it had seemed so hopeless from the start.  Peter wanted to be followed around by the girls like Sirius, even though he knew that Sirius could care less about girls and only pretended to be a bed-hopping scoundrel to avert suspicion to his true nature. Of course, he had no idea what he’d do once he met a girl who liked him, but the idea seemed nice, and it seemed to be something the others were good about doing, except, perhaps, Lupin, who was really only good at reading during the day and ripping off faces when the full moon rose.

 

“Padfoot, there you are!” James Potter jumped over the back of the couch and landed on Sirius, who made a surprised, excited “oof!” that sounded almost like a bark.

 

“Why, Prongs, I see you’ve finally mastered leaping,” Sirius quipped, grabbing James into a tackle hug and rubbing his fist into Potter’s messy black hair.

 

Peter’s cheeks went red with jealousy as he stared at them.  James and Sirius were the best of friends.  Nothing could come between them. And, it seemed, no one else mattered as long as they were together.  

 

“Hi, J-James!” Peter said, blushing redder with embarrassment as he stuttered again.

 

James simply looked over at Peter with an arched brow and a snicker at Peter’s speech impediment before going back to roughhousing with Sirius.

 

“C’mon, Prongs, let’s get outta here! I know of two seats at the Three Broomsticks with our names on them!” Sirius said, poking James the ribs.

  
“Jolly good, then, let’s go!” James said, once he’d finished shrieking hysterically at being tickled.  James pulled his Invisibility Cloak from his rucksack, grinning evilly.

 

“Can I come-” Peter started, but James and Sirius were already standing up and scrunching close together so that James could throw the cloak around the two of them.

 

“You stay here,  _ Wormy _ , you’ve got some  _ notes _ to take in class for us!” Sirius Black’s disembodied voice said with a snicker.

 

“Yeah, mate, we’re a lot bigger now than when we were firsties.  I don’t think you’re going to fit under here with us,” James said with a sheepish grin, his face now the only thing visible with the cloak thrown over his head.

 

“Yeah, besides, I hear that Madam Rosmerta is particularly afraid of  _ rats _ ,” Sirius quipped with another snicker.

 

“ _ Sirius _ !” James said, obscuring his face with the cloak, but Peter could hear two sets of snickers from the cloak.

 

He allowed the furious look to slide over his features once the Fat Lady’s portrait finally slammed shut and he was left alone in the common room.

* * *

  
  


“Come on, Peter, you have to give this to him!” Marlene McKinnon was looking at Peter with giant puppy-dog eyes as she handed him the note.

 

“He’s just going to throw it away, you know,” Peter replied softly, trying not to flinch at the murderous look he received.

 

He hated double Potions, but it was even worse when he was the only Marauder in class.  To be fair, Lupin was in the infirmary recovering from the full moon and not hanging out in a tavern drinking butterbeer, but Peter was irrationally angry at all of his friends at that moment simply for not being there.  For a moment, his heart had soared when Marlene had taken the empty chair next to him, but the moment she opened her mouth it was  _ Sirius _ this and  _ Sirius _ that.  Peter rolled his eyes.  He almost wanted to tell her that she was wasting her time, seeing that Sirius was a  _ bloke’s _ sort of bloke but he could feel the magic of the Vow that James and Sirius had forced him to take when he’d caught Sirius snogging Lupin one morning when he’d run back to their rooms to pick up some notes from class.

 

Peter didn’t consider himself homophobic, but it just made him hate Sirius more for some reason.  The fact that someone who looked like Sirius Black could have half the school pining away for him and not even be interested in women infuriated him to no end.  If only he could be Sirius...if only…

 

“Today you’ll be brewing through the final steps of Polyjuice potion!” Slughorn was saying, his massive walrus moustache bobbing around at the front of the room, only slightly less massive than his large, rotund stomach, “Please take the draught from the front and begin immediately!”

 

Peter was glad for the distraction as he headed up to the front of class.  He cursed himself for being stuck behind one of the Slytherin students, who elbowed him as he was dipping the ladle to collect his portion, causing the muddy liquid to splash on his cheek.  

 

“Watch it,  _ Mudblood _ !” snarled the boy, and Peter gulped when he realized that it was Avery, who seemed to have it out for Peter more than most of the pure-blooded Slytherin students. It was true that his parents  _ were _ Muggles, but Peter couldn’t understand why others had to point it out so readily.  His parents didn’t seem to understand much about being a wizard, either.  They even sent him to Diagon Alley on his own at eleven because his mother had to watch all of her soaps and couldn’t be bothered and his father was too busy working at the bank.  Peter was resourceful, though.  He lied to Ollivander about his parents being right outside the shop, and asked a rough-looking wizard to exchange his money at the bank for a cut of it. He loved his parents, but he knew that they too wished that they had another, better son.  He tried and tried but knew it wasn’t good enough.  That’s why he stayed at Hogwarts during the breaks and stayed out of the house walking about town whenever he was home during the summers.  It wasn’t that his parents had ever told him that they didn’t love him, but it was something he knew intrinsically, just like how he knew that most other kids didn’t have double chins and a damnable pot-belly.  If only he could be more attractive, confident,  _ powerful _ …

 

It was easy to see it for the delusion it was.

 

Marlene pouted next to him and handed him the diced ingredients reluctantly since it was too late to change seats.  It was as Peter stirred the muddy brown liquid that the idea first occurred to him, and he decided that if Sirius didn’t want to get the girls, then maybe he’d just have to help himself.

 

“Marlene,” he started, steeling himself for the glare she was sure to give him.

 

He was not disappointed.

 

“What do you want, Worm?” Marlene replied with a haughty sniff.

 

“W...what?” Peter’s voice broke slightly and he hated himself even more.  It was bad enough that his voice had taken forever to drop, but it seemed like it was always breaking when he got anxious or surprised, which was pretty much all of the time.

 

“Your  _ friends _ call you that,” Marlene sneered, “It always struck me as odd that you’d appreciate being called that, but I think it’s fitting.”

 

Peter could feel his ears go red and anger filled him.  He was being humiliated yet again.  And yet, there was something about Marlene that provoked a new feeling inside of him.  She was one of the first girls who didn’t have a boyfriend who talked to him like this, even if it was because she wanted him to play a messenger for Sirius.  

 

He had to stifle a strange, fluttering feeling that rose in his chest and he knew then that he was going to do it.

 

“I...I could arrange for you to see Sirius...alone,” he said carefully. “I’ll convince him to meet you in the abandoned Arithmancy classroom on the fifth floor. Wouldn’t that be better than a silly old letter?’

 

Marlene gaped at him.

 

“Are...you  _ serious _ ?” she breathed, drawing close enough that he could smell a soft floral scent; her perfume.

 

He nodded.

 

“Ok, then, Peter,” she said, grinning slyly, “you’ve got yourself a deal.”

 

His body stirred and responded accordingly to being looked at like that. He couldn’t help it.  He blushed involuntarily, even though he tried to stop it from happening.

 

“Oh? Is that what I think it is?” Marlene looked down and he blushed even more furiously. “I think that I know how to make it worth your while.  Just meet me in the alcove by the library before lunch and I’ll be sure to take care of that for you.  Just don’t expect me to kiss you.”

 

Peter nodded stiffly. He couldn’t do anything else.  The next couple hours were torture, as Marlene did not show any signs of being remotely interested in him, but she did act civilly.

* * *

 

She met him as she’d promised, slipping her hand into his trousers and rubbing him until he reached completion.  He’d not lasted long and when he came it was with a whimpering snort that he was certain sounded like a pig. It was disgraceful.  Marlene had wiped her hand on him and told him he could Scourgify the mess himself before disappearing towards the Great Hall.  She would not look at him when he finally sat down at the Gryffindor table, and it wasn’t long until Sirius swept by, arm in arm with James, and Marlene’s face lit up when Sirius waved back to her.

 

‘Pathetic,’ Peter thought to himself, ‘Just like me.’

 

But his heart twinged with an odd sort of glee as he touched his fingers against the glass of the potion bottle he’d nicked from Slughorn’s stores.

* * *

  
  


Marlene hurried to the fifth floor, knowing that she was a bit later than she’d planned.  She’d been unable to properly Disillusion her entire body and had to get help from Lily on her backside.  Oh well, none of that mattered.  She felt slightly bad about wanking off that creep, but she knew his type.  He’d do anything for her, now.  Even though he was tubby and none too bright, she knew that Peter Pettigrew was resourceful.  If he wasn’t such a shy little lump and changed his hairstyle, he could probably pass as halfway decent.

 

She shook her head. Why was she thinking about  _ him _ when Sirius Black was waiting for her?  Even if it was just a casual thing, she wanted to be able to see what all the other girls were bragging about when they told of their exploits with the dashing Marauder.

 

She opened the door quietly and stepped inside.

 

“Hello?” she whispered.

 

A figure stepped towards her in the darkness and she bit back a scream before she realized that it was Sirius, as promised.  He was tall and lithe. His hair was long, wavy and black.  He looked down at her with a playful look in his eyes and as she opened her mouth to ask him something, he put his fingers against her lips, quieting her instantly.  Moments later, his lips were upon hers and Marlene felt her mind going fuzzy with desire.

 

He moved inside of her quickly, taking his pleasure from her as she expected he would.  She didn’t care, though, as she looked up at him in the gloom and marveled that he would be so surprisingly athletic. He finished with a heavy exhalation of breath and rolled off of her with one final kiss.

 

Even though Marlene hadn’t reached orgasm, she was filled with a heavy satisfied torpor.  She’d finally gotten what she’d wanted.

 

“Let’s do this again,” she panted, lying back on the cold floor.

 

He nodded, zipping up his trousers and leaving abruptly with one of his devilish grins.

 

Marlene waited for a long while in the dark, torn between feeling a bit abandoned and full of bliss as she rubbed the wetness between her legs until she stiffened and came with a small cry of pleasure.

* * *

 

“Brewing potions again, Wormy? You do know that if you inhale too many fumes, you might end up like ol’ Snivellus,” Sirius sneered as he came into the shared dorm room.

 

Peter stiffened.  It was obvious that Sirius was in a bad mood, so he simply hunched his shoulders and tried to look as noncommittal as possible.

 

“I found my brush on your table again,” Sirius accused, “You better not use it on your hair.  Everyone knows that rats have fleas, after all.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes, but only did so because he was facing away from Sirius.

 

“It isn’t  _ my _ fault that you keep leaving it on the floor and I keep nearly impaling my foot on it when I have to get up to use the loo in the dark,” Peter replied, wincing when he heard the petulant tone in his voice.

 

“Is that so?” Sirius replied with a sniff, “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you had grown a spine!”

 

Peter stifled a curse under his breath and then turned as calmly as possible, putting on his best Stupid Peter Face.

 

“Not me!  I’m just the same old scaredy-rat you know and love!” he said with a slight stutter and a glib smile.

 

Sirius shot him a disgusted look just as James stepped out of the loo adorned in his Quidditch robes.

 

“Ready to go, Padfoot?” James said brightly, looking at his scowling friend curiously.

 

“I am now,” Sirius replied darkly, “C’mon James, let’s not interrupt Peter’s boring homework project!”

 

Neither James nor Sirius saw the dark grin that twisted up both sides of Peter’s face as they left the room.

* * *

  
  


Peter hadn’t realized that Marlene was so wild.  Not only was she willing to meet nearly anywhere to fuck him as long as he was Polyjuiced to look like Sirius, but she often begged him to try all manner of odd positions.  She let him penetrate her in every orifice, and it was often twice or three times per session.  They even shared an orgasm together once or twice.  And, after an initial bout of insecurity, he slowly learned how to pleasure her instead of leaving her high and dry.

 

All without saying a word on his part. 

 

She’d tried to talk with him afterwards, but he’d fled each time. After all, the potion only changed his body, not his voice and he didn’t want their liaisons to end, not if he could help it. It had become easier and easier to get away from the others without having to say anything about it. And since Marlene had gotten the impression that it was all about the sex and not about a relationship, she seemed to respect the fact that Sirius didn’t treat her differently during the daytime.

 

Even though he was forever waiting for the other shoe to drop in their time together, Marlene had grown closer to Peter, even though she mostly talked about Sirius with him and asked him questions.  Even though she still looked at him sometime as though he were beneath her, Peter cherished their time together and found himself falling ever deeply in love with her.

 

But as graduation grew close, Peter was growing desperate.  He knew it wouldn’t last much longer, but he couldn’t bear for it to end.

 

On the last day before they were to head home on the Hogwarts Express, she met him at the top of the Astronomy Tower to look out at the warm near-summer night beyond and watch the stars rise.  He’d taken her up against one of the stone arches, bringing her to a shuddering climax that left them both boneless and sated.

 

He wrapped his arm around her, his body shivering as the Polyjuice begin to fail.

 

“I know you will hate me after this,” he whispered, “but I just want you to know the truth.”

 

Marlene stared as he went from the lithe visage of the pure-blooded Gryffindor to the pudgy failure of a body that housed him, the one that he hated more and more every time the change finally concluded.

 

He expected her to scream.  Maybe even slap him and say something terrible.

 

What he hadn’t expected was laughter.

 

Marlene began to snicker quietly until she was laughing uncontrollably, her sides heaving with the effort of it.

 

“You idiot,” she said through giggles, “I knew it was you the second time we did it. I’ve seen how he looks at Remus Lupin.  If he doesn’t already know that he’s gay, he will soon.”

 

“Then why….?” Peter felt himself flush scarlet.

 

“You have to admit that his body is a mite bit more enjoyable when it comes to a roll in the hay, but you’re a good study in making me feel good, and besides, I’ve always liked a guy who will listen when I’m nattering on.”

 

Peter grinned as a hopeful feeling rose through his chest like the bubbles in a champagne bottle.

 

“Can...can I kiss you?” he asked, daring himself to breathe, “I mean...like this...if you don’t…”

 

Marlene leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before pulling back slightly and looking at him appraisingly.

 

“Your turn.”

 

Peter nearly cried as he finally pressed his own lips to hers, vowing that he’d do whatever he could to make her happy, to make her his.

 

Anything at all.

* * *

  
  


Peter sat outside on the narrow steps to the small flat in Knockturn Alley. He’d never expected it to get this far and yet, here he was. He kept his hand in the folds of his cloak nervously fidgeting with the object inside.

 

“Hey, Peter,” Marlene said softly, opening the door to let him in.  

 

Her dark hair was cut short and it stuck out crazily as though she’d just gotten out of bed.  She wore formless robes that hung poorly on her stocky, short frame, but he still wanted to wrap his arms around her and let her know that everything would be all right. He tried to kiss her cheek but she flinched away, muttering an apology and pulling her arms around herself as though she was feeling cold.

 

“A-are you ok? Can I get you anything...I…?” Peter trailed off, feeling useless.  It was, after all, not his apartment.  He had no idea where most of her things were located in her new place, as he was spending the majority of his time at the headquarters of the Order.

 

“I’m not an  _ invalid _ !” Marlene seethed angrily as she paced the small room, “I’m pregnant! I can still be part of the cause- you know I can!”

 

“No one is saying you can’t be part of the cause,” Peter assured her, “but you do have to agree that if you want to keep the baby, you will need to adjust your activities accordingly.”

 

“Do  _ you _ want me to keep it?” Marlene stared at him, her eyes full of indecision.

 

“ _ What _ ? Of course!” Peter flushed, feeling like things were already spinning more and more out of his control.

 

“But...there’s the war...and it will be a bastard...you know that, right?” She stood at the window, facing away from him as though she was having a conversation with herself.

 

“No.  I won’t let that happen.” Peter said, his voice shaking just a little as he pulled the box from the folds of his robes, “P-please, Marlene, do me the honor of becoming my w-wife.”

 

“Oh….” Marlene sat down hard and covered her mouth.

 

The ring was small and not particularly ornate, but he’d bought it with his own money. He hoped- no- he  _ needed _ her to accept it.  The alternative was unthinkable.

 

“Please.  Please let me claim my child,” he begged, placing his hand on her knee as tears ran down her cheeks.

 

She nodded silently, wiping her eyes with her fingers and he held her, slipping the ring on her finger gently.  He stayed with her until she was calm again before he headed back to the Order once more.

* * *

  
  


“Pettigrew. You’re with Maintenance.  Walk with me.”  The voice was familiar, and it made Peter nauseous.

 

Lucius Malfoy stood next to him, tall and regal, looking down his nose with disdain.  A wand was pressed into his side.

 

“This  _ year _ , Pettigrew,” Lucius hissed, and Peter trudged towards the lift as though he was headed to his own execution.

 

Malfoy slipped an OUT OF ORDER sign on the lift and pushed Peter inside, pulling the doors closed behind him.

 

“Hello, Peter. I am so happy that you could set aside the time to meet with me today.”  The cold, high voice was full of a fake geniality that made Peter want to flatten himself against the wall.

 

He knew that voice.

 

‘I’m trapped. Like a rat.  I bet Sirius would laugh at the irony of that.’ he thought to himself.

 

“Address the Dark Lord with respect, you filth,” Lucius sneered.

 

“That will not be necessary,” Voldemort said with a tight smile, “after all, Peter here knows all about what it feels like to be underappreciated.”

 

Peter wanted to shout at them, to tell them to go to hell, but in reality, it was taking him every ounce of strength to keep from pissing all over himself.

 

“Oh? Was I mistaken?” Voldemort chuckled, though there wasn’t a hint of warmth in his eyes, “Look into my eyes and tell me that it’s not true, then, young Mr Pettigrew.”

 

Peter knew that he shouldn’t look at Voldemort in the eye, but Malfoy angled his wand until it was pressing uncomfortably into his throat and Peter had to scrunch his eyes shut tightly as he was forced to move his head to keep from being impaled.

 

“W-with a-al-ll d-due r-r-respect, sir, I’m just a Maintenance Worker here. I do not understand what you’d want with me,” Peter stammered.

 

“Ah, yes. I suppose congratulations are in order,” Voldemort replied, as though Peter hadn’t said a word, “for your marriage to the lovely Marlene McKinnon. Yes, I know that there wasn’t a formal ceremony, but I’ve got eyes in the Records department.”

 

Peter tried not to gasp and failed miserably.

 

“Oh? Does it upset you to know that I am  _ everywhere _ and know more than you can ever know, Mr. Pettigrew?” Voldemort hissed, his breath hot against Peter’s face as he tried to keep his eyes shut tightly. “For example, I know that you are one of Albus Dumbledore’s pathetic little minions.  You oppose me, and for what?  Because an old man told you to do it? Or is it, perhaps, that you think it will bring you the power and fame you seek?”

 

“You d-don’t k-know anything!” Peter managed, feeling lightheaded from the effort of keeping his bladder from releasing its contents all over himself.

 

“Oh, but I do,” Voldemort said, caressing Peter’s cheek with a cold finger, “I happen to know all about your exploits at Hogwarts, and if I’m not mistaken, my agents have closed in on finding the new little love nest you two have built. And, oh, what’s this? According to my sources, some of which are  _ closer to you than you think _ , I hear that your fairer half is  _ expecting _ .  Congratulations are in order.  You must be very  _ excited _ . Of course, it would be quite terrible if  _ something were to happen _ to you before your child is born.  Or even worse, if your beautiful wife were to meet a tragic end.”

 

“Don’t you threaten them!” Peter shouted, “Do whatever you want to me, but leave them alone!”

 

“Interesting,” Voldemort said, his voice nearly a purr of satisfaction, “Come, Lucius, I think it is time that we leave our friend to think about his situation.”

 

They slammed the door behind them and Peter finally allowed himself to take a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He could smell the acrid scent of urine before he realized he’d voided his bladder.

 

The rest of the day, all he could do was think about the cold feeling of Voldemort’s fingers pressing against his face.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe that You-Know-Who would have the sheer gall to attempt to get me to turn to the side of evil!” James Potter fumed at the Order meeting that Friday. Remus nodded sympathetically as Lily, who was at the meeting even though she was almost nine months pregnant, held his hand. Peter thought it was ridiculous, but Lily had browbeaten James until he’d finally conceded. 

 

“He tried to get me to switch sides when I was on the way back from the market, “Lily mumbled, her face pale, “He put his  _ hand _ ...on my stomach and told me to think about my child’s future. I nearly Splinched myself trying to get away from him.”

 

Some of the other Order members shared similar stories.  Peter looked over at Sirius, who was leaning back in his chair his arms crossed as he did his best not to look at anyone.

 

‘He looks guilty,’ Peter thought to himself, but he knew there was no proof.  Besides, no one would listen to  _ him _ .

 

Their number was small, even if everyone seemed to be giving it their all to beat the evil regime that Voldemort was building. But if it was true that there was already a spy in the Order, Peter knew that it was only a matter of time until they were destroyed.

 

And, much like his animagus counterpart, Peter was desperate to survive at all costs.

* * *

  
  


“Fancy meeting you here.”

 

Peter twisted around with a tiny scream of terror to face the shadowy figure that stood near the fence that circled the small house.

 

“I...I thought about what you said. Before.” Peter hoped that he sounded brave, but he could feel the weight of defeat in the tone of his voice.

 

“Oh?” Voldemort stepped out of the shadow and grinned toothily as he steepled his fingers together. “Do go on.”

 

“First, you must promise that my wife and child are safe.  That you do not harm them,” Peter said, staring at Voldemort’s chest, “Secondly, you cannot force me to take a life by my own hand. And finally...finally, I want to be different...better...more improved.  I want power, and I want the body I’ve always dreamed of.”

 

“Ah...I see,” Voldemort replied, sounding pleased, “So we get down to the heart of the matter, now.  Do you honestly dislike how your body looks, with its fat little tummy and that terrible frizzy hair and tiny, snaggly teeth?  Well, I’m sure I can do something with it, after all, I am the most powerful wizard that has ever walked on the face of the Earth.  Very well, I shall abide to your terms, but you shall in return take every bit of information you receive and bring it to me. I shall then decide what to do with it from there. Do we have a deal?”

 

Voldemort strode up to the front steps of the house where Peter stood, frozen as though in a trance.

 

“Look into my eyes, Peter Pettigrew, and we shall finalize our agreement,” Voldemort purred, holding out his hand. “No one shall know.  Not even your wife.”

 

Peter finally raised his head and met Voldemort’s dark eyes, which seemed oddly human for such a terrifying figure. Then he nodded.  For a moment, Peter desperately hoped that Dumbledore had been wrong.

 

“What about my friends?” Peter asked, his lip quivering as Voldemort linked hands with him and magic poured from them both, sealing the contract.

 

“There are always casualties in every war,” Voldemort replied cryptically, “but I shall attempt to reason with them once more.”

 

Peter shook with a sudden chill in the August evening as Voldemort’s eyes finally left him, and he knew in his heart of hearts that he’d made a deal with the Devil, but it was done.  There was no turning back. Besides, if Voldemort’s promise was true, he would give the others the same chance to reconsider.  If they decided to pass up on the opportunity, then that was not his fault.

 

There was a swift cracking noise as Voldemort  _ Apparated _ away. As he slipped the key into the door, Peter swallowed a large lump in his throat and hoped that Marlene would be asleep when he got inside, because there were too many things to think about, and none of them were pleasant.

* * *

 

The following February, Peter returned home from his job at the Ministry to find his infant daughter alone with Alice Longbottom and her son, Neville, who was a few months older.  Alice was beside herself with worry, as Marlene had promised to be gone less than an hour visiting her parents to make sure that they were all right, but Peter knew that the only person who could talk for as long and as loudly as Marlene was possibly her mother.

 

“I’ll go and check on her,” he promised, Apparating away to his in-law’s home.

 

The smell of burning flesh was so potent that he fell to his knees, gagging into the pavement.  Aurors were everywhere, swarming over a long string of wizarding homes that had been gutted with fire.

 

He found Marlene’s mother huddled up against a lamppost, her face covered in soot.

 

“It...it was Fiendfyre,” she gasped. “Then, as we ran from the building, the Infieri appeared. They walked through the flames like they were nothing and they...they…”

 

“Listen to me. Where is Marlene?” Peter asked, shaking the older witch by her shoulders.

 

“She was trying to save her father and it caught her, caught her….oh it was a terrible noise,” Marlene’s mother began to shake as she wrung her hands together, repeating “caught her caught her caught her” over and over again.

 

Peter heard a strangled cry and was surprised to find the it was coming from his own mouth.  Eventually, the Aurors would come to his home with an urn housing Marlene’s ashes, for that was all that was left of her, and Peter would hear that strangled cry again- the sound of a rat caught in a trap.

* * *

 

“Peter, what a surprise.  I wasn’t expecting you until Thursday.” Voldemort leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea.

 

“You  _ bastard _ !” Peter snarled, “You knew that she would die!”

 

“No, I did not,” Voldemort replied coolly, “One of my  _ subordinates _ was only supposed to use Fiendfyre on one residence; a known hideout for rebels and miscreants who are not sympathetic to my cause, but it spread before it could be contained.  I promise you that it was not my orders or intentions to lead to the death of your wife. Of course, said subordinate has been sufficiently punished for his mistake, and I respectfully offer my condolences to you and your daughter.”

 

Peter clenched his fists in rage and brought them down hard on the surface of the table.

 

“Done with your temper tantrum? Beware, losing your temper can lead to you losing...other things,” Voldemort said coldly, and Peter seemed to remember exactly  _ whose _ desk he was standing before. “Good.  Clean yourself up and bring back some actually  _ useful _ information before I decide that you weren’t worth the price offered.”

 

Peter looked down at the darkening stain running down his trousers and hung his head with shame, hot tears pouring down his cheeks.  Even several Scourgifys later didn’t seem to lessen the smell. As he Apparated away, Peter knew what he had to do.

 

He had to come clean to Dumbledore, consequences be damned.  His daughter deserved better than the fickle whims of a psychopath.

* * *

 

The house was dark as he approached the front and this fact filled Peter with dread.  The new nanny should at least be in the front room while his daughter slept. When he entered the house, he knew at once it was empty, but he still tore through the entire place from attic to basement searching desperately for her, hoping it was a mistake.

 

“Looking for someone?”

 

Peter whirled around.

 

“DAMN YOU TO HELL, VOLDEMORT!” he seethed, almost expecting the man to wince at the usage of his name. “WHERE IS SHE?!

 

Voldemort looked unimpressed and inspected his fingernails instead.

 

Peter stomped furiously up to Voldemort, drew his wand, and shoved it upwards into Voldemort’s face.

 

“WHERE. IS. SHE!?” Peter growled through his teeth.

 

“She is safe, Peter.  For now.  But do not forget that the world is a dangerous place. There is nowhere that is  _ truly _ safe,” Voldemort replied with an amused smirk. “Do your job well, and I may actually allow you to see her.  Renege on your promises, and the contract is broken.  Do see that your daughter not be forced to pay for the sins you’ve committed.”

 

A feverish light filled Peter’s eyes and he let out a high-pitched hysterical laugh as though hearing the words from the devil he’d bargained with in the first place was the final irony that he could stand.

 

Voldemort rolled his eyes and disappeared with a loud crack, leaving Peter on his knees in the grass, looking up at the darkened, cloudy sky and wishing that the earth would simply crack open and swallow him whole.

 

For he knew now that there was truly no way out unless he paid for it with the lives of everyone he loved.

 


End file.
